


Putting the Cart Before the Horse

by ORiley42



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Happy Ending, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 06:43:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14014455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ORiley42/pseuds/ORiley42
Summary: A season two-era fake married AU!





	Putting the Cart Before the Horse

**Author's Note:**

> Fake Married for day one of Nygmobblepot week! This is one of my all-time favorite tropes, and I’m so glad this event pushed me to get in gear and actually write a tale of my own.

“Cobblepot!” The guard rattled his club against the bars of Oswald’s tiny cell window, “Shake a leg, you’ve got a visitor.”

“But, I thought– ” Oswald cut himself off before he could point out that he’d been told in no uncertain terms that new inmates were not allowed visits outside of lawyers and family for the first six months of their so-called “rehabilitation.” Since his court-appointed lawyer had long since jumped ship, and his mother was busy turning to dust in a cold graveyard, he couldn’t imagine who this visitor could be – but this simpleton of a guard need not know that.

“Ed?” Oswald realized out loud upon spotting his friend sitting nervously in Arkham’s visiting room.  

“Honey!” Ed exclaimed, smacking his knees against the underside of the table in his excitement to stand.

“Um…?” Oswald blinked, wondering if his time in Arkham was already beginning to wear on his sense of reality.

“You’ve got ten minutes,” the guard snarled, before shoving a deeply confused Oswald forward.

Oswald shuffled towards the table, chains clanking.

“It’s so good to see you, darling!” Ed declared, tone bizarrely saccharine. He threw out his arms and, unless Oswald was drastically misreading the situation, appeared to be about to hug him.

“No touching, even for you!” the guard cautioned, and Ed rocked back on his heels.

Oswald had a very bad feeling about all this. He only waited a few more moments until the guard retreated before slamming his shackled hands down on the tabletop and hissing under his breath, “Edward Nygma, what have you _done_.”

“What I had to,” Ed replied, voice dropping down low and flat.

“All I asked of you is a few visits to my mother’s grave, and that’s –”

“Clearly insufficient. How could I leave you here, in this _detestable_ place, when I consider you a– a friend?”

Oswald narrowed his eyes at Ed’s stutter. “How kind. I would point out that I as yet _remain_ in this detestable place.”

“Yes, but only for now. This legal arrangement I’ve made is really only a small, preliminary step which allows us to communicate freely.” Ed gestured between them, and a glint of gold on his left hand caught Oswald’s eye.

“Legal arrangement,” Oswald repeated, eyes riveted on the tell-tale ring on Ed’s finger, “that’s what you call this. You faked our....our...” Oswald couldn’t seem to make his mouth spit out the word.

“Marriage,” Ed finished for him, with no such difficulty. “Yes, I did. After reviewing Arkham’s rather archaic guidelines surrounding visitation and correspondence, I determined it to be the only way for my plan – for your _freedom_ – to progress unhindered and unobserved. The paperwork was easy enough to wiggle through Gotham’s easily bribable bureaucratic machine, and that gorilla-like associate of yours, Gabriel, was more than happy to act as our witness. He was surprisingly helpful in the whole matter, actually. He gives us his best, and also a toaster.”

“A what?”

“A toaster,” Ed mimed pieces of bread popping into the air, “It’s a wedding gift. I never could quite get him to grasp the nuance of the ‘convenience’ part of our marriage of convenience.”

Oswald thought if Ed said the word “marriage” one more time, his head might explode.

“I-oh, I’m sorry.”

Oswald glanced up at Ed’s crestfallen expression and realized he’d voiced his annoyance out loud. A brief stab of guilt at hurting Ed’s feelings prodded him into adding, “Edward. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the gesture. But this is all rather abrupt, and entirely unexpected and…” He laughed disparagingly, “And you may find it hard to believe given all I’ve done, but my mother taught me that marriage is a sacred bond, to be undertaken only with the highest respect and commitment and this –” he gestured between them, and then around at the moldering grates of the insane asylum around them, “hardly meets those qualifications.”

“I apologize for that,” Ed replied, not looking particularly apologetic, “But I decided it was better to beg forgiveness than ask permission in this case.” He leaned forward across the table, “There are certain events in motion regarding a mutual enemy of ours –”

“–Jim,” Oswald deduced with a sigh.

“–Yes, and with only a few more moves, we can have _him_ rotting in prison, and _you_ can be outside with me,” Ed finished in a rush.

“With…you?”

“Well,” Ed coughed, “I mean, we’ll have to keep up some appearances. Co-habitation for a certain period of time would be advisable.”

“Right,” Oswald pinched the bridge of his nose, “So, to be clear: this is all just a ploy to get the better of James Gordon.”

“Yes.”

Oswald didn’t know why, but that answer made him feel worse than he had before.

“Thus, you needn’t worry.”

“Worry about what?” Oswald said, deadpan, “Someone finding out this is all a charade? Jim Gordon eventually finding his way out of whatever pickle you put him in and seeking revenge? This plan falling apart before either of those thing can even happen?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Ed sniffed, adjusting his glasses, “I’ll see to all the details. No, I mean that…well. Surely a man of your standing is entertaining any number of potential paramours, so I would assure you that this... _arrangement_...will not interfere with any such endeavors.”

“Oh- I, there aren’t exactly...” Oswald speech stumbled as his embarrassment at talking about his nonexistent love-life grew, “There aren’t any other paramours or amours or anything, just you...”

Ed’s eyebrows shot upwards.

“That is to say,” Oswald quickly went on, “uh, _but_ you, you can of course – and should! – pursue any romantic avenues you’d been exploring prior to this sham marriage...”

Ed’s expression solidified into something cool and unreadable. “Right. Well, since my last relationship ended with dismemberment, I’ll probably be steering well clear of that particular path.” 

Oswald’s cheeks burned. “Yes, of course, that’s quite understandable. Quite.”

An uncomfortable silence settled on them like a thick layer of dust, until Oswald imagined he could feel it choking him.

“Well, since we’re speaking of it,” Ed finally shattered the quiet, “I might as well elaborate on the plan, since it involves Kristen. Namely, it involves Jim’s pathetic attempt at mind-games regarding the circumstances of her disappearance…”

Oswald relaxed minutely as Ed began to rant about Jim Gordon this and Jim Gordon that. The familiarity of mutual contempt and Ed’s strategic if emotional speech allowed him to feel something resembling hope for the first time in far too long.

Ed’s plan was ingenious; a few well-placed pieces of evidence, a phone call, a shark lawyer, and a judge known to have a personal grudge against Gordon following some sort of incident involving his son and a shipment of illegal fireworks – fundamentally, it transferred the burden of incarceration for Theo Galavan’s murder from Oswald to Jim.

“Your plan sounds…satisfactory.” Oswald withheld higher praise, wanting to make Ed squirm just a little.

“I promise, I’ll have you out of here in a matter of days,” Ed insisted.

The gate behind him rattled, and Oswald spun around to watch apprehensively as a new guard arrived carrying a small plastic box.

“It passed through screening,” the guard announced, bored, before dropping the box on the table. He glared down at Oswald, “As per Arkham regulations, your allowed items may not be used to cut, choke, bludgeon, or in any other way harm yourself, other inmates, staff, or Arkham property. Do you agree to these conditions?”

“Uh…” Oswald cut a glance over to Ed, who was grinning in anticipation, “yes?”

The guard nodded, rapped the top of the box once, and then left them again.

Ed reached carefully for the box, popping open the lid and removing yet another box, this one much smaller and made of black velvet.

“Is that…”

“Not as a high a karat as I would prefer,” Ed admitted, “but I was in a pinch, and it’s not as if a GCPD salary would allow me to purchase a ring of the caliber you deserve.”

Oswald was most definitely _not_ blushing at that, or so he told himself.

“So, Oswald…” There was a slight tremor in Ed’s hand as he snapped the box open to reveal a simple gold band inside. “Will you marry me?”

 _Damn him,_ Oswald thought suddenly, as tears threatened to rise to his eyes. This wasn’t fair. How could Ed ask that, how was he supposed to reply?

“Do I have a choice?” Oswald finally snapped, eyeing the ring watchfully like it might sprout fangs.

“Of course, you do,” Ed answered immediately. “If this plan really is too distasteful for you –”

“No!” Oswald grabbed Ed’s hand as he began to slide away. “No,” he repeated more calmly, “It’s not at all distasteful, just surprising. And I am grateful. It’s just…”

Oswald didn’t know what he was going to say, but it didn’t matter, because Ed gave their interlocked hands a gentle squeeze and seemed to understand anyway.

“Alright,” Oswald sighed, resigning himself to what could either be the best or worst thing to ever happen to him, “Give me the damn thing, already.”

Ed smiled, and Oswald held out his hand and watched, heart in his mouth, as Ed slid the ring onto his finger. It was a perfect fit.

The guards arrived just a few minutes later to drag him away, but he just laughed as they tossed him into the rec room, and then laughed some more.

He’d gone into Arkham with no family and no hope, and now in a matter of days he was going to leave with both, wrapped up in a neat little package named Edward Nygma.

“What’s so funny?” Helzinger growled, the hulking inmate stomping over to loom above Oswald.

“Nothing, nothing, dear man,” Oswald giggled. “But did I ever tell you that I’m married?”

~~~~~

The day that Jim Gordon’s murder trial began was the day that Oswald was released from Arkham. In a rare moment of good cheer, Gotham had chosen to open her cloudy skies to the sun and let a little warmth trickle down to her streets. Even if it had been cloudy and gray, however, Oswald didn’t think the city’s polluted air would ever had tasted so sweet – especially sweet when accompanied by his _husband_ trundling up to Arkham’s gates in his Chevy with a smile and a wave.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Oswald greeted Ed as he slid into the passenger seat.

Ed shot back, “Well, I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d stop by.”

Oswald’s face began to ache with the smile it was holding, the muscles unused to the action, but he couldn’t seem to stop.

Ed tapped the steering wheel with his palms, before jerking half-way towards Oswald and rearing back. “I’m sorry, I – do we – is this a ‘hug’ moment? I find the particulars of etiquette to be rather opaque under the best of circumstances, but…”

“I’m fairly certain no charm school ever taught a course on how to greet your fake husband when he retrieves you from an insane asylum,” Oswald reassured him.

“Fair point,” Ed conceded, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a grin. “Shall we go home?”

“Home?”

“With some assistance from Mr. Gabriel, I managed to acquire a property downtown from which we can conduct our business, as well as reside.”

“Using my funds, I presume?” Oswald cocked an eyebrow.

“Well, yes, but –”

“Don’t worry,” Oswald flapped his hand, untroubled, “we are _married_ after all. I trust you’re not a gold-digger after my money, like my mother always feared I’d attract?”

Ed looked aghast. “I would _never_ –”

“Relax, I’m joking,” Oswald reached over to pat Ed’s leg reassuringly. The action had felt natural at first, but now seemed unbearably intimate. Unable to undo it, however, he decided to bluster through. “I’m sure your intentions are entirely honorable.”

Ed’s responding laugh was a little strained, but Oswald didn’t notice, preoccupied with how warm Ed’s leg felt under his hand.

~~~~~

“Congratulations, boss!” Gabe greeted them when they arrived at their new abode, his meaty arms thrown wide, “And congrats, uh…Mister Boss?”

“Just ‘Ed,’ will do,” Oswald corrected him icily, “And to clarify for what I’m sure is the billionth time: we are not actually married.”

“Right…” Gabe winked, “I’ll just let you two lovebirds get settled in.”

He lumbered off, Oswald looking after him in bewilderment. “Did he just… _wink_?”

“He’s been doing that a lot,” Ed confirmed, “Perhaps he should have his eyes examined.”

“I’ll put that at the top of my to-do list,” Oswald sighed. 

“I am fairly certain you’re joking, but just to be clear: I am fully at your disposal. Whatever you need in terms of organization, strategy, dealing with lamebrained henchpeople… Having concluded my tenure at the GCPD, I am in search of a new vocation. Which is to say: I am all yours.”

Oswald gulped at the heartfelt way Ed had said _all_ _yours_. “I appreciate that, Ed. I’m sure we’ll achieve great things together.”

~~~~

Great things were slow coming in the following weeks. It would take time to rebuild Oswald’s empire, even with Ed’s help. However, _good_ things were plentiful. Good things that Oswald hadn’t even imagined wanting, but now craved.

An ottoman appeared in the living room, it’s poufy cushion at the perfect height for Oswald to rest his ankle. Intelligent conversation was no longer a rarity but a constant companion. Ed became the de facto head of the household, dealing with a thousand sundries that Oswald didn’t have the patience for, but which Ed excelled at organizing.

Ed’s spirited presence allowed Oswald to coast off his energy through long days, while Oswald’s grumpy but fond insistence upon things like sleeping at least a few hours every night and eating at semi-regular intervals kept Ed better fed and rested than he had been in years.

At the end of the day, Oswald would declare a moratorium on work. Ed would smile and nod and then pleasantly ignore the announcement, continuing to scribble in notebooks and mutter under his breath.  Oswald would occasionally admonish him for not taking a break, to which Ed would reply that he had no desire to take a break, and so why should he make himself unhappy by depriving himself of the pleasure of working? And so was built a friendly loop of mild daily bickering that neither of them ever tired of repeating.

Their faux-married life went so smoothly that it wasn’t until almost two weeks after Oswald had been released from Arkham that the first real test of their cover came around.

Harvey Bullock had finally located their base of operations and came storming in the door with his jacket askew and his hat nearly flying off his head.

“There’s a cop here to see you!” Gabe announced belatedly as Ed and Oswald looked up at Harvey’s tumultuous entrance.

“You know, detective,” Oswald simpered, “It’s polite to call ahead before arriving on someone’s doorstep.”

“Though,” Ed added with an equally cloying smile, “My husband and I of course appreciate your well-wishes for the future of our union.”

Oswald hid a snort behind the palm of his hand.

“That is, I assume, your business here?” Ed asked innocently.

Harvey wagged a threatening finger at the pair of them, “Do not even get me _started_ on all this whole ‘married’ crock. I’m here to – ”

“Crock?” Ed interrupted, pressing a hand over his heart. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’m not talking to _you_ , traitor,” Harvey barked at Ed.

Ed tutted, undisturbed even while Oswald’s hackles rose. “I’ll forgive your projection of your own issues onto me – what with your partner’s abominable conduct being chief to why I resigned my post. I simply couldn’t abide working alongside such immorality.”

“You little –” Harvey made a move towards the table and Oswald surged to his feet.

“Detective, if you continue to treat my husband with such disregard, I’ll be forced to acquaint you with this little wedding gift…” Oswald unsheathed the blade hidden in the trick cane Ed had given him for their one-week anniversary. “And frankly, I think you’d rather remain strangers.”

Harvey took a careful step back, crossing his arms. “Alright. I’ll play your game. So, married life, huh? How’s that working out?”

Oswald sat back in his chair while Ed remained standing, resting a hand on Oswald’s shoulder. “It’s fantastic, thank you for asking,” Oswald sneered, temper only barely contained.

“Really? I’d think a homicidal crime boss and a weirdo ex-cop might have some trouble playing house.”

“We’ve come to a harmonious arrangement,” Ed replied diplomatically.

“Harmonious? Wow. How romantic.”

“The heights of romance, I assure you. Right, darling?” Ed leaned down towards Oswald.

Oswald opened his mouth to agree, but found his lips suddenly occupied.

Ed tasted like the grapefruit he’d had for breakfast and smelled like hair product and his skin was impossibly warm – and then he was pulling away. The kiss was over before Oswald could even process what was happening, the tingle in his lips the only proof that it hadn’t been a brief bout of insanity.

Harvey just gaped at them, whatever he’d been about to say completely forgotten.

Which was Ed’s goal, Oswald realized with a sinking heart. Naturally, it was a strategic move, why else would he kiss him?

Oswald felt he should say something to cement their little bit of amorous theater with the detective, but he was too busy trying not to visibly unravel to speak.

Ed had no such problem, lounging against Oswald and commenting, “We’re all very busy men, Harvey, so if your curiosity or whatever it is that brought you here is satisfied…”

“Well, I am just about convinced,” Harvey admitted, tugging on the brim of his hat. “You sure do seem like the real deal. Two freaks in love – but that’s the rub isn’t it?”

Ed’s hand tightened on Oswald’s shoulder as Harvey’s eyes took on a nasty glint. “It’s not like either of you could ever _really_ love someone.”

“Gabriel!” Ed summoned loudly before Oswald could do something rash, like choke Bullock to death with his own hideous tie. Gabe poked his head through the door, clearly having been listening in the whole time. “Our guest is leaving now, please escort him out.”

“It doesn’t even _matter_ what I do,” Harvey shouted as Gabe crowded him out of the room, “Or what Jim does when he gets outta prison! Because you two’ll destroy each other before we have the chance!”

The door swung shut after him with a bang, leaving Ed looking as murderous as Oswald felt.

Lifting his chin sharply, Oswald declared, “When we have a firmer grasp on this city, one of first orders of business should be seeing that sorry, whiskey-soaked excuse for a man has a fatal accident.”

“Something automotive would be relatively simple, if a bit blasé. Perhaps a good poison that mimics the effects of liver failure…” Ed tapped his chin thoughtfully.

“That would be fitting,” Oswald agreed.  

Ed finally sat back down, drawing the paperwork they’d been distracted from closer and tapping it into order. “Aside from that useless oaf’s ridiculous bit of prognostication, we did learn something useful: he doesn’t have any viable proof against us. He’s been reduced to trying to bully us into admitting some sort of guilt.” Ed shot a sideways grin at Oswald, “And we did nothing of the sort. We make an excellent team.” 

“We do,” Oswald agreed, smile tight.

They made _too_ good a team. It was far too easy to fall into the illusion that what he had with Ed was anything more than a mutually beneficial business arrangement.

But despite trying to keep that in mind, lines continued to blur in the following days. Oswald would forget that they were married until his ring flashed unexpectedly in the light, and he was forcibly reminded. He would also forget that they _weren’t_ really married when Ed fussed over Oswald’s wardrobe, straightening his tie and smoothing out his lapels like the doting husband he was pretending to be.

In the end, Oswald always remembered that they were, in fact, pretending. That remembrance always came with an ache, quickly repressed but still present. He did his best to remain professional, despite his mother’s voice in his head urging him to be true to his heart.

Maybe under different circumstances he’d be able to find the courage to run to love, but trapped here in a devil’s parody of it, the prospect seemed impossible.

~~~~~

“A fake marriage?” Barbara snickered into her cocktail, “Jeez, Ozzie, what you’ve gotten yourself into…”

Oswald rolled his eyes. “I didn’t offer to put a roof over your head so that you could mock me.”

“No, apparently, you did it so you’d have someone to complain to about your hubby – sorry, _pretend_ hubby.”

“Shut up.”

“Never. Now, tell me…” she leaned forward, eyes twinkling, “how is he in bed?”

Oswald grabbed a throw pillow off the couch they were sprawled on and launched it at her head. “I should have you thrown back in Arkham!”

“They don’t take returns!” she yelped, easily dodging.

They were laughing through a tug of war with the throw pillow when a voice boomed, “What’s all this?”

Oswald and Barbara turned with identical, guilty starts to find Ed standing in the doorway, looking strangely furious.

“Ed! I didn’t see you there,” Oswald said, mildly abashed.

“Clearly.”

Oswald frowned at Ed’s tone. “I believe you know Miss Kean –”

“I do,” he said coldly.

“She’ll be staying with us for the time being, while she gets back on her feet.”

“Staying…with _us_?” Ed continued to glare at Barbara.

“Don’t look so worried, handsome,” Barbara said, crossing her legs deliberately, “I’m just gonna be your roomie, I’m not trying to steal your man.”

“Stop toying with him,” Oswald chided, slapping her knee. “She understands the professional nature of our relationship,” he explained to Ed, “I felt it was…necessary for her to know.”

“Necessary– ?” Ed’s laser-focus flickered between them and then his eyebrows cranked upwards. “I see.”

“What do you…?” Oswald tried to ask, but Ed had already fled the room.

Oswald looked askance after him. “I think perhaps I should…” He leaned towards the door Ed had left through.

“You definitely should,” Barbara agreed, finishing her drink and standing to make herself another.

“Ed?” Oswald peered into the study to find Ed straightening books on a shelf with more ferocity than seemed due. “Are you alright?”

“Peachy keen,” Ed chirped unconvincingly.

“I’m sorry if inviting Barbara to stay upsets you…”

“Why would it?” Ed slammed a copy of _War and Peace_ into place so hard that the dusty shelves quaked.

“Well, I would certainly understand if you wished I’d asked you before doing so. Upon reflection, it wasn’t terribly courteous of me…”

“Not at all,” Ed paused in his re-ordering of the complete works of Shakespeare, “I made it clear from the beginning that our involvement would not preclude any romantic liaisons on either of our parts, so you are entirely welcome to be ‘roomies’ with Miss Kean – however ill-advised it may be, what with her being Jim Gordon’s ex-fiancée…”

“Romantic–? Oh my g– _Ed_ ,” Oswald laid a firm hand on Ed’s arm, stilling him, “No.”

Ed looked down at the hand, and then up at Oswald.

“I’m not sure how to say this,” Oswald laughed, which didn’t soothe Ed’s temper any, so he quickly went on to say, “But Barbara is so very much _not_ my type.”

“She’s…not?”

“No. Not at all. _Certainly_ not in any romantic sense.”

“Oh.” Ed looked almost bashful, head down and glancing up through his eyelashes when he asked, “Then, what _is_ your type?”

 _You_ , Oswald just barely managed not to say. “None of your business,” he ended up saying reflexively, and more sharply than he’d intended.

“I…” Ed looked shocked, but quickly gathered himself up behind a mask of indifference. “My apologizes for overstepping.”

Without another word he marched off, and Oswald heard him say to Barbara in the sitting room, “I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong foot, Miss Kean.”

“Not at all,” Barbara purred, giving Ed a none-too-subtle once over as he settled into a chair on her left, “And please, call me Barbara.”

“Barbara,” Ed smiled. “I suppose if we’re going to be spending time together, then we should get to know each other.” Ed shot a look in Oswald’s direction as he came back into the room. “That is, if it’s not too much to ask.”

Oswald’s jaw dropped. Then, he drew himself up and marched over to Barbara’s right hand side. “But if you _don’t_ feel inclined to share,” Oswald tossed himself down on the chair opposite Ed, “it surely won’t be held against you.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with wanting to be a little more open,” Ed snapped before pasting back on his smile, “Especially with people whose lives are intertwined with your own.”

“Intertwined lives don’t entitle people to every last personal detail,” Oswald volleyed back, glaring openly at Ed.

“I’m not asking for every personal detail, just one!” Ed held up a lone, furious finger, dropping any pretense that either of them were speaking to Barbara.

Barbara, meanwhile, was following the exchange like a fast-paced tennis match, her fresh drink forgotten in her hand.

“Well –” Oswald struggled to think of a reply, not even entirely sure why he was angry, just that he was, “Well, maybe that detail is– is _particularly_ personal.”

“Well, maybe that’s why I need to know it!”

While Ed and Oswald continued to squabble, Gabe came into the room with a folded piece of paper, which he handed to Barbara. “Message for you, uh, ma’am.”

“Thanks, sugar,” she treated him to a smile before reading the note. Her eyes went comically wide, and she threw a hand in the air to try and grab her companion’s attention.

“Gentlemen?” she said, eyes still glued to the note.

Ed and Oswald took no notice of her.

“ _Boys_!” she shouted. They both froze. “I am genuinely sorry to interrupt your amusing little misunderstanding,” she continued brightly, “but I just received word through the grapevine that our dear old friend Jim’s getting released… _today_.”

“ _What_?” Ed and Oswald reacted in unison.

“Apparently some new evidence came to light and blah blah blah…we can probably expect him to come storming the gates sometime soon-ish.” Barbara popped the olive from her drink into her mouth and stood. “Well, I think I’ll take off for now, hatches to batten down, etcetera… Toodles!” She gave a dainty wave of her fingers before sashaying out of the deathly quiet sitting room.

“Perfect. Just perfect,” Oswald muttered to himself, lurching to his feet and beginning to pace haphazardly back and forth across the room. “Just when we start to get this damn city in working order, it all breaks down…”

“It’s not so dire yet,” Ed cautioned, though he looked perturbed, “Jim’s release was always possible. In trying to implicate him for a past crime, it was an inevitable flaw in the plan, but not a fatal one.”

“What did you just say?” Oswald cocked his head in Ed’s direction, something about his phrasing setting off warning bells.

“That it was a flaw, but not a fatal one…”

“No, ‘past crime’…” Oswald repeated slowly. With a flash of insight he realized, “It would have been better to frame him for a _new_ crime.”

“Excuse me?” Ed didn’t quite meet his eyes, and the tell was all Oswald needed to know he was onto something.

“You heard me,” Oswald said, dangerously calm, “If you’d fabricated a set-up yourself, it would have been neater, cleaner. You would have been in control.”

“There would still have been numerous unpredictable factors –”

“You know,” Oswald cut him off impatiently, “for someone who is generally a fairly skilled liar, you’ve developing quite the flop sweat.”

Ed finally met his stare. “You can’t possibly know what plans I discarded on route to the one I chose.”

“I don’t have to know,” Oswald hissed, “you’ve as good as admitted it.”

“You want me to say it?” Ed unfolded himself from his chair, standing to tower over Oswald. “Fine. The plan I originally engineered placed Gordon in prison for reasons entirely separate from your own incarceration, and it was – _marginally_ – more reliable.”

“Oh my god!” Oswald threw his hands in the air, head spinning, “Then why didn’t you do _that_?” He didn’t give Ed time to answer, steamrolling over him in his anger, “You said that freeing me was key to your plan, but it wasn’t! If anything, it _derailed_ it. Yet, you chose to do all of this, and then _lie_! What was it all for?”

“For you!”

“What?” Oswald sputtered, “Why? What do you need me for? I can’t teach you anything else, apparently, I couldn’t even think my way out of a rubber room without considerable assistance!”

“I don’t want you to teach me, I want you to _be_ with me.”

“Don’t – don’t you say that.” Oswald’s voice cracked.

“Why not?” Ed stepped forward and Oswald shied away. “It’s the truth,” he added, voice almost a whisper.

Oswald couldn’t take it. He couldn’t keep up the charade anymore, not when it was _just_ a charade. It would kill him to go on like this.

“Edward. I can’t stay married to you.” The words felt cold and biting leaving his mouth, but he needed to say them. “I can’t spend another second in this house with you.”

Ed was silent for a moment before replying in a small voice, “You hate it that much?”

“No, that’s the problem! I love it! I love –” Oswald cut himself off before he could say that last damning word, but Ed’s eyes flew wide anyway.

“You see,” Oswald continued desperately, “I thought I could be your friend, but I can’t.”

“I don’t want you to be my friend.” 

“Right, business partners, whatever –”

“No!” Ed grabbed Oswald’s face with both hands, shocking him into silence. “Oswald. I don’t want you to be my friend because I want to be _more_ than friends. I did all of this because I didn’t know how else to tell you, how else to get you to spend time with me.”

Oswald half shook his head, hands coming up to flutter hesitantly over Ed’s before settling slowly over them.

“Ed…” he began carefully, “Did you…did you fake our marriage because you didn’t know how to ask me out on a date?”

Ed thought for a moment, mouth hanging slightly open. Finally, he muttered, “Well, when you say it like that is sounds absurd.”

“It does!” Oswald laughed, elated, “But then again, it’s not like I knew how to ask you either.”

“Oh…” Ed licked his lips, and his gaze slid down Oswald’s face before jerking back to meet his eyes. “I want to– but I’m not sure about the etiquette –”

“Your damn etiquette again,” Oswald whispered before pulling Ed roughly down into a kiss.

~~~~~

“Alright, Freaks One and Two!” Harvey banged on the door to Ed and Oswald’s home-base, “C’mon out, we’ve got a warrant!”

He glanced over at Jim when there was no answer, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Take ‘er down boys.”

A pair of uniforms took a battering ram to the doors, and Jim and Harvey stormed in over the splintered remains.

“You’ve really gotta see it to believe it,” Harvey told his newly-freed partner as they approached a pair of doors with movement sounding behind them, “these two are so full of–”

Harvey’s words died in his mouth as they blew into the room to find their criminal targets lying on a couch, wrapped up in a heated embrace.

“Damn it,” Jim swore under his breath, looking like he wished he was still in prison, before yelling, “Hey, cut it out!”

“Detectives…” Oswald looked up, voice breathless, “is there a problem?”

“So many problems,” Harvey whispered, half-covering his eyes

“The current problem,” Jim coughed, not able to look directly at them, “Is that it’s illegal to fake a marriage in Gotham for the purposes of conducting a criminal conspiracy.”

“Alright,” Oswald nodded thoughtfully.

“It says it right there in the municipal bylaws!” Jim insisted.

“I’m sure it does,” Ed agreed, looking upside-down at the detective from his position underneath Oswald. “Though, I’m not sure what it has to do with us.”

“It– ” Jim turned to Harvey who just shrugged helplessly, “Well, it doesn’t actually matter, since this warrant gives us license to look for evidence of _any_ criminal activity.”

“Does it? I’d like to see that …” Ed beckoned towards Jim, who took a few strained steps forward to hand the warrant to him.

Oswald settled more comfortably on Ed’s chest while Ed straightened his glasses and perused the document.

“As I suspected,” he said, handing the paper back to Jim, “your rather flimsy false-marriage claim _is_ the basis of this warrant. As such, the only things in its purview are those which fall under our married ownership – residences, furniture, etc. that was purchased following our marriage. But I’m afraid this property and everything in it was purchased _prior_ to that, by my husband.”

“It doesn’t mean that,” Harvey scoffed, before turning to Jim. “Does it mean that?”

“I think it might mean that,” Jim admitted.

“So, your warrant is virtually useless, and that’s even setting aside the fact that it was granted under false pretenses – as our marriage is quite real,” Ed punctuated the word with a pinch to Oswald’s backside, making Oswald squeak and Harvey mutter “Christ,” under his breath.

“Come back after our silver anniversary,” Oswald offered, “and perhaps you’ll have a bit more material for your search. Now, if you don’t mind,” Oswald slid his hand down Ed’s front until Jim’s ears turned red and he looked away, “we were in the middle of something.”

Jim seemed angry enough to want to argue, but Harvey wisely clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Let’s live long enough to fight another day. And god knows, I won’t live many more days if I have to see what they’re gonna do next.”

“Don’t think this is over!” Jim shouted as he and his officers retreated.

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Oswald shouted back as the sitting room doors swung shut behind them.

“They’ll be back with a proper warrant, eventually,” Ed pointed out, a frown line materializing between his eyebrows.  

“I say we celebrate our victory today,” Oswald suggested, smoothing that line out with his thumb, “and worry about preventing defeat tomorrow.”

“In reference to both celebrating _and_ preventing defeat…” Ed began, tone sly, “Technically, marriages in Gotham aren’t official until, um…consummated.”

“Oh, really?” Oswald shifted his weight meaningfully, grinning down at Ed.

“No, actually.”

Oswald blinked.

“There was an amendment to that rule about a decade ago. But…” Ed smirked, “I thought it sounded like a pretty good line.”

“ _You_ …” Oswald was speechless with a desire to kiss Ed’s smart mouth, so that’s exactly what he did.

When he pulled back for breath, he had a matching mischievous expression on his face. “But I am a rather old-fashioned man…perhaps it would be best if we followed the law to the _letter_.”

“I think you’re right. We wouldn’t want to spit in the face of tradition.”

“We would _never_.”  

“I love you,” Ed admitted in a rush, apropos of nothing but the fact that he couldn't keep the words inside anymore.

Oswald smiled, and reached down to take Ed’s left hand in his own, their rings brushing against each other. He raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed them, whispering, “Good thing you married me, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought! <3


End file.
